


things unsaid

by Morning66



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28805715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morning66/pseuds/Morning66
Summary: John Bender, Brian decided at that moment, was the kind of guy you met when you were having a non-midlife crisis, whether it be in Saturday detention or in a gas station or in some other nameless location.
Relationships: John Bender/Brian Johnson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	things unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! Hope you guys like this!!
> 
> Warnings: swearing, crude sexual references

Brian would like to say he went to college and attended parties and joined a frat and got many girlfriends who he had mad sex with and did basically everything he hadn’t done in high school.

Sadly, that was not the case.

He went to college and attended all his classes and started his homework the day it was assigned and spent his Friday nights at Computer Club and his Saturday nights playing chess with Peter down the hall who claimed to have a USCF rating of 2100. 

The closest he actually got to sex was the three times he walked in on his roommate, Jeff, and the girl who worked at the bookshop and promptly proceeded to shut the door faster than humanly possible and hyperventilate in the bathroom. All three times happened in a two week span because Jeff the football playing roommate seemed completely incapable of comprehending the idea of a doorsock, a time honored college tradition.

That said, some good did come out of the incidents because the next time he went to buy a book at the store, the girl gave him a sheepish smile and a 50% off coupon that definitely wasn’t in store policy. He thanked her profusely even though he had already questioned her sanity for wanting to sleep with his roommate when there were, say, five thousand other boys on campus.

(Of everything, this was the one thing Brian did learn about himself at college: he probably wouldn’t mind sleeping with a guy, so long as it wasn’t Jeff the roommate. In fact, he had the feeling he’d probably like it. Brian wasn’t exactly sure what to do with this newfound knowledge, so he buried it under all the obscure astronomy facts he had to memorize for Science Olympiad.)

Needless to say, Brian came from college the same way he’d gone: a scrawny virgin with bad hair and pale skin and grades to rival Einstein. ( In fact, probably better than Einstein, though, Brian would never claim to be near that smart.) Additionally, it seemed that his parents hadn’t changed either because the first thing they asked was how his finals went and the second was whether he had an internship lined up for summer.

The first three days of vacation consisted of a detailed discussion of Brian’s grades, a thorough cleaning of his room, and a trip to the doctor’s (still the pediatrician, who Brian at eighteen seemed inexplicably not to have grown out of). On the fourth day, Brian’s mother handed him a ten and asked (read: ordered) him to go to the store and pick up a carton of eggs for the cookies she was making for the church bake sale.

So, Brian went to the gas station and grabbed a carton of eggs and two packs of strawberry Hubba Bubba for his little sister. Then, he stood in the aisle between the drinks and the chips and studied the six-packs of Bud Lite and wondered if this would always be his life. Always on the outside looking in, always some piece of glass separating him from what he wanted. Always buying eggs for his mom and getting good grades and wishing he was someone else doing something else.

A familiar voice shattered Brian’s thoughts.

“Gonna have to card you for those, Brainiac.”

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere and for a second Brian wondered if it was the God his parents were so fond of. Then, he turned and saw it was John Bender wearing a 7-eleven apron, hair grown long enough now to fall across his eyes.

“Uh, what—huh?” Brian stammered, ever eloquent.

Bender snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re twenty-one.”

John Bender, Brian decided at that moment, was the kind of guy you met when you were having a non-midlife crisis, whether it be in Saturday detention or in a gas station.

“I wasn’t going to buy any,” Brian protested. “I mean, I know you can’t. I’m only eighteen. Well, nineteen soon, I guess, but...”

Bender raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t believe him. “Ring you up?”

“You work here?”

“No, just decided to put on the apron and then I decided, hey, why don’t I ring up my old buddy Brian here for a hoot.”

“Fuck off,” Brian said, putting the eggs and gum down on the counter. “Wait, so you just work here? Like that’s all?”

Bender fiddled with something on the cash register. “I’m doing carpentry school when I’m not here. Can’t all be curing cancer, Little Bri Bri.”

“I’m computer engineering with a minor in math, so nowhere near curing cancer. I am taking a class in cell biology next semester, though, so I guess we’ll have to see. Maybe.” 

It was a joke. Brian crossed his fingers and stared at the broken clock on the wall and hoped Bender thought it was funny, even though he probably wouldn’t because no one thought Brian was funny.

Maybe he did, because Bender laughed. “Big words for a little man. So how’s college treating you, smarty pants?”

Brian shrugged. “Kinda the same as high school. Same shit, over and over again.”

This wasn’t what Brian had told his parents. He’d told them that everything was going well, that he was learning so much and what a good environment it was. It was what they wanted to hear, so he told them. Still, something about Bender had always made him want to tell the truth, even last March in detention.

“That’s the world,” Bender said, stuffing the eggs and gum into a bag. “A bunch of shit, over and over again.”

Brian sputtered out a laugh at that. God, he wondered, how did Bender always manage to make anything he was saying so cool, even while bagging food? Brian couldn’t make anything look cool, ever.

“So,” Bender said, holding the bag out, but not letting go, “get any pussy?”

Brian’s nose twitched up. He thought about lying, but then remembered how that ended last time so he just shook his head and reached for the bag.

Bender didn’t let go. “Any dick?”

Now, that took Brian off guard. He looked up at Bender, waited for some joke about his masculinity, or perceived lack thereof, but none came. Bender just stared at him, looking a bit apprehensive, and then Brian realized that maybe it wasn’t a joke. Maybe, this was an actual question.

“No...I mean—no,” Brian said and didn’t say _but I’d like to_. 

Bender nodded, lips turning up a bit. Something changed in his eyes because they were somehow a bit brighter. He let go of the bag and Brian nearly dropped it, keeping hold of it at the last minute. God, that would be embarrassing if all the eggs spilled on the countertop all gooey glop and then they’d have to clean it up and he’d have to get new eggs.

“Hey, Brian,” Bender said as he was leaving. “If you don’t wanna get carded, but want beer, come by when I get off at eight, okay?”

Brian stopped in the doorway. Blinked. “So, you mean, like...?”

Bender shrugged. “Sure, Brainiac.”

It was meant to be nonchalant, but it really wasn’t.

”Oh, okay. I mean, yeah sure that’d be—yeah.”

Brian didn’t say he’d like to do anything with a guy, but maybe you didn’t have to with these things. Maybe all you could do in a place like Shermer was not to deny it, to leave it open. Maybe that was enough.

Brian grinned the whole way home.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Have a nice day!! Thanks for reading!
> 
> =D


End file.
